A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4)

by Stephanie Rowe

  And he knew.

  He fucking knew.

  He looked at her, really looked at her. "How much money do you need?" The question came out tight and clipped, almost forced. It felt surreal, asking that. Was it really possible that his mother had shown up in his life because she wanted to cash in on his career? His own fucking mother? Was she really so mercenary that he was nothing more than a financial windfall to her? First, a burden, and now, a paycheck?

  Her eyes widened. "Money? I don't want money. I just wanted to see my son."

  He wanted to believe her. He realized he wanted to believe her more than he'd wanted to believe anything in his whole life. He needed her to be telling the truth. A baby had been dangled in front of him to get his money, burning him so badly that he hadn't even been able to cope with what he felt for Lissa.

  Too afraid of being burned.

  Too afraid of being eviscerated.

  Too terrified of the pain that she could cause him, if he was wrong again.

  But he had to know.

  He had to fucking know.

  He took out his phone, his hand actually shaking. "What's your email address? I'll PayPal you the money." He needed her to refuse. He needed her to get pissed. He needed her to walk away without taking it.

  If she did, he'd follow her. He'd go after his own mother, the one who had abandoned him, and he'd give her one more chance.

  She stared at him.

  He waited.

  "Maybe just a little," she finally said. "Money has been kind of tight."

  He felt like he was falling, catapulting into a black pit. "A little," he echoed numbly. "How much?"

  "Whatever you can spare. I'll pay you back. I promise." She smiled eagerly. "Maybe a hundred thousand? I want to start a charity for kids."

  "A hundred thousand for a charity," he repeated. "What's the name of the charity? I'll send it there so you don't have to worry about taxes." It was a last chance, a chance she didn't deserve, but he needed to give it. He needed to know.

  "Oh, no." She shook her head. "It would be better just to send it to me. Then I can allocate it." She rattled off her email address, and looked at him expectantly.

  And that was it.

  The truth.

  His own fucking mother had walked back into his life after two decades for the sole purpose of capitalizing on his fortune.

  Silently, he shoved his phone back in his pocket, turned away, and started walking numbly through his security guards toward the back of the tent, where he'd parked his truck.

  "Travis?" His mom hurried after him. "Where are you going? What about the money?"

  He spun back toward her. "What about the money? I'll tell you about the money. Every last cent of it is going to my brothers, the only people in this entire fucking world who have stood by me, who don't give a shit about my career or my money or anything. They've got my back no matter what, like you were supposed to, as my mother."

  She stopped, her face shocked. "Travis—"

  "No." He spun around and strode toward her. "I waited for you. I waited for you to come back and rescue me from that hellhole." He jerked his shirt up and pointed to the scar on his side. "My fucking father beat me so badly that he broke my rib and punctured my lung. I would have died if Chase hadn't come back to rescue me. Where the fuck were you? You hated me from the day I was born, but for a split second just now, I was stupid enough to think maybe you really cared. You don't. You never did, and you never will. Admit it. Just fucking, for once in your life, admit the truth."

  She stared at his scar, her mouth open in shock.

  He didn't think she'd answer.

  But then slowly, silently, she raised her gaze to his and nodded.

  Travis went still. "You admit you hated me?"

  She sighed. "I didn't want a child. I didn't want to be married. I didn't want any of that life. I'm sorry I can't love you like a mother should. It's just not me. It's not you."

  The first truth she'd ever given him. He didn't even know how to respond. "You came back for the money."

  "I came back for the money." Her eyes were shiny. With tears? He doubted it. "I'm sorry he hurt you, Travis. I didn't know how bad it was."

  "Would you have come back if you had known?"

  For a long time, she stared at him, then she silently shook her head.

  No. She wouldn't have come back for him even if she'd realized what his life was like. His own fucking mother. "I think we're done here."

  This time, when he turned away, she didn't stop him.

  She just let him go.

  Lissa leaned back against the booth, watching as the three Stockton men dug into the after-hours pie. It was almost two in the morning, and they were as energized as they'd been at the start of the night. She was exhausted, but also exhilarated. Only one more night of fair week, and then she'd have her life back. Tonight had been the busiest night she'd ever had, and the three Stocktons had enabled her to handle more guests than she'd ever had before. She could even close the café for the last night, and still have earned more money than she needed for the rest of the year. "You guys were amazing tonight."

  Ryder shrugged. "It's automatic."

  It was the same answer they'd given her every time she'd thanked them tonight. "I still don't understand why you guys are here."

  Maddox raised his brows. "You don't know about the Stockton code?"

  She shook her head slowly.

  "It's like this." He leaned forward. "You don't survive hell by yourself. We back each other up, no matter what, no questions asked. Travis put the call in for you, so that's what it is."

  Chills ran down her arms at the intensity of his response. She couldn't imagine having that kind of loyalty supporting her. She'd been going solo for so long, the thought of having someone to call no matter what was surreal. "The bond you guys have is incredible." She managed a small smile. "I'm a little jealous," she admitted.

  Chase grinned at his brothers, his blue eyes surveying them with evident satisfaction. "Now, if we can just get them to move back to town. There's space on the ranch for you guys."

  "Fuck that." Ryder leaned back in his chair. "This town is tainted by the devil. No way am I ever coming back."

  Chase frowned, but Maddox didn't seem to notice the conversation. He was watching Lissa carefully. "The real question is why Travis asked us to help you out. Any thoughts on that one, Lissa?"

  She felt her cheeks turn red. "I don't know. He left last night and made it pretty clear he wasn't ever coming back." To her shock, the tears she'd fought off all day suddenly sprang into her eyes, and she looked away, trying to regain her composure. "He helped me out here a couple nights. Maybe he just felt bad he had to work tonight."

  Maddox laughed softly, the kind of bitter laugh that had no joy. "That's not how we operate. Travis would never call on us to cook burgers without a damn good reason, which, as far as we're concerned, usually involves life, death, or serious physical harm." He glanced around. "Don't see any problem with that here, so why were we here?"

  Lissa tensed at his low undertone. "I don't know. He didn't tell me he called you."

  Chase grinned. "You guys are really that stupid? Didn't you learn anything from when I called you to help with Mira?"

  Maddox looked over at him. "Mira was in serious danger. Lissa isn't."

  "Danger is subjective." Chase looked over at Lissa, his gaze speculative. "I called you guys for help with Mira because my heart would have shattered into a thousand pieces if anything had happened to her. Because she had become my entire world."

  Lissa's heart began to hammer at Chase's words. "I'm not his world—"

  "Do you understand what hell Travis went through as a kid?" Chase leaned forward, his gaze intent on her face. "We had a deal as kids to never let a woman come between us. No women. Ever."

  "Until you broke that oath," Maddox pointed out.

  "Yeah, and it took a hell of a lot for me to take that chance with her." Chase focused on Lissa. "
I would never, in a million years, have given Mira a chance if I hadn't been forced into the situation. It was just as difficult for Zane and Steen. We're broken, Lissa. Every last one of us. The fact Travis called us means that you got through his armor. He loves you, or he wouldn't have done it."

  Lissa bit her lips, tears suddenly threatening again. "He doesn't—"

  "He does, but I'll tell you right now, if you wait for him, he might not be capable of coming back to you. You have to fight for him. Go after him."

  "No." Lissa stood up, suddenly angry. "If I forced myself on him, I'd spend the rest of my life waiting for him to leave, aware that he tried to walk away, and I didn't let him." Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, tears of loss, tears of frustration, and the tears of heartache.

  All three men were watching her closely now. "Do you love him?" Chase asked.

  "Of course I do! How could I not? I didn't even want to fall in love with anyone, and he broke through my walls. But I have a daughter and a café, and I can't afford to be wrecked so badly by a man that I can't take care of us." She wiped a hand over her cheeks. "You didn't hear him, Chase. You didn't see his face. He shut me out completely. He's moved on, and he won't come back, so stop trying to torment me by giving me hope that will break me!"

  She didn't wait for an answer. She just turned and raced to the kitchen, fighting back the tears that wanted to destroy her. This time, for the first time in a week, she didn't go upstairs. She grabbed her car keys and headed out the back door to go to Martha's, to hug her daughter, to remind herself of why she had to be strong, to remind herself that there was one person in the world who she could love without fear.

  Across the street, Travis stood outside the Wildflower Café, his hat pulled low, and his collar flipped up as he watched Lissa sitting with his brothers. He felt dead inside. Empty. Like a gaping emptiness was scraping away at his soul.

  He'd sat at that table with her. He'd watched her smile. He'd felt happy.

  Now, he felt nothing. He didn't even feel the anger that had always been a part of his life. He just felt...nothing.

  Lissa stood up, her fists clenched. Travis realized she was shouting at his brothers. Something was wrong. Alarm raced through him, and he instantly shot forward, not even looking for cars as he raced across the street. He jerked open the door and ran inside. "Lissa!"

  She was gone.

  His brothers spun around toward him, but he barely noticed them. "Where did she go? Into the kitchen? What happened? What's wrong with her?" He strode past the table, but Chase grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop.

  Travis glared down at him. "Let go."

  "Why? You going to go in there, be nice, and then ditch her yet again?"

  Travis jerked his arm back, out of Chase's reach. "She's upset. I need to make sure she's okay."

  Chase shoved him back, roughly. "She's upset because she loves you, and you walked out on her. She's a single mom, Travis. You don't do shit like that to people like her."

  She loved him. The words slammed into him, but he shoved them aside, unable to deal with them. "People like her? What does that mean?"

  "People who love you, even when you're a dick. You don't mess with them. You respect them and treat them well."

  "Love?" Travis couldn't keep the snarl out of his voice. "What the fuck is love? You mean love like we had growing up? Is that love? Well, I'll tell you about love. My fucking mother just showed up, pretending to fucking care. But all she wanted was my money. Is that love? Because it's bullshit."

  "What?" Maddox stood up, his face dark with anger. "Your mom's in town?"

  "Yeah, and she pulled this shit about apologizing, and I believed her. It was all lies." Suddenly Travis felt lost. He sat down heavily in the chair. "What the fuck, man? She admitted she hated me. I mean, I knew she did, but hell. She looked in my face and lied to me, said she was there to apologize, but she only wanted my money." He looked at his brothers. "How long do you think she was planning it? To come after me for my money?"

  "Fuck her." Ryder scowled. "She's not worth your time, man. None of them are. But, you gotta watch it with your money. People will do whatever it takes to get a piece of it, when you have as much as you do." He jerked his head at the peeling paint on the wall of the café. "How do you know Lissa's not in it for the money, too? Women—"

  "No." Travis's response was sharp, instinctive. "She's not like that."

  "How the hell do you know?"

  "Because I do." But even as he said it, he thought of how he'd believed in Mariel. He'd been so fucking desperate to be saved that he'd bought into the story that he was a dad. He'd even believed his own mother, for a minute. When he'd shown up in this town, he'd been a complete mess, gasping for breath in a life that was killing him. Lissa was the first person who'd been there for him, who'd seen him just as a man, and not as a Stockton or a superstar. She'd been his salvation when he hadn't been able to cope. He'd been desperate. So maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe he was wrong about Lissa. Maybe that was why he was holding back. Maybe in his gut, he knew...

  "Come on." Chase stood up. "We're going on a field trip."

  The rest of the Stocktons didn't move. "A field trip?" Maddox raised his brows. "We're not in high school."

  Chase just headed for the door. "I'll drive." He walked out, leaving them sitting there.

  Travis looked at his brothers. "Where's he going?"

  "I don't know."

  They watched Chase get in his truck and start the engine. He turned the headlights on and sat there waiting.

  Finally, Ryder stood up. "Hell. Let's go."

  Maddox groaned but he shrugged. "Might as well. We got nothing to do until Travis's concert tomorrow night."

  Travis stared at his brothers. "You really came for my show?"

  "Hell, yeah." Ryder slammed his hand down on Travis's shoulder. "You done good, bro. You need some people in the audience who know you're a Stockton, not some glam pretty boy. That blood runs black in our veins, but you've done good."

  Travis got a sudden lump in his throat. "Thanks."

  Ryder nodded. "Anytime. You know that." He grabbed his cowboy hat and headed toward the door, Maddox right behind him.

  Travis hesitated, glancing at the kitchen door that Lissa had disappeared through. He glanced at his brothers heading out the door, and then back at the kitchen. Swearing, he started to walk toward the street, then spun around and sprinted into the kitchen. He flung the door open. "Lissa!"

  The kitchen was empty.

  She'd already gone upstairs.

  He eyed the door to the back stairs, the urge to yank it open and chase her down so strong that his chest actually hurt. He was halfway across the kitchen toward it when the door to the café opened.

  He swung around, then swore when he saw Chase standing there. His brother's face was hard. "Get in the truck, Travis."

  "Lissa—"

  "Deserves more than a bastard who keeps showing up and then leaving her. Or you planning to stay this time?"

  Travis glanced at the kitchen door, then swore under his breath. He didn't answer Chase. He just grabbed the spare key from under the counter, shoved past him, and jerked the door open. Chase walked through, then Travis followed him, locked the door, and shoved the key through the mail slot.

  Then, after taking another long look at the kitchen door, he turned and headed to his brother's truck.

  Chapter 22

  Chase parked the truck in a dark, isolated field, his headlights the only illumination besides the moon.

  "Where are we?" Ryder peered out the windshield.

  "Just get out," Chase said as he opened his door.

  Travis shoved open the rear door and climbed out. The moment he saw the scattered, crumbling headstones, he knew. His gut went cold, and he flashed back to the night when hell had descended upon them. "No fucking way. We're not doing this."

  "Yeah, we are." Chase started walking through the graveyard, his cowboy boots scuffing in the parc
hed August earth. "It's time."

  "What is this place?" Maddox looked around.

  Ryder and Maddox had been out of town when it had happened, and they hadn't come back. Only Travis and Chase had been there. Only Travis and Chase had stood there, watching their father be dumped into a hole in the ground, where he was never going to break the bones of any more of his sons. Ever. "Dad's grave."

  Ryder unleashed a litany of curses, and Maddox just turned around and got back in the truck without saying a word.

  Chase was already in the middle of the graveyard, standing over the simple, small headstone that marked the end of an era of hell. Travis looked at Ryder, who was staring at Chase with a grim look on his face.

  "Let's go." Ryder took a deep breath, and then headed across the graveyard toward Chase.

  Travis didn't want to do this. His ribs were aching even as he stood there, the pain piercing his chest, just as it had when they'd stood over his father's grave. Travis had been out of the hospital only two hours, a skinny sixteen-year-old who'd lived under the fists of a demon his whole life.

  He looked back at Maddox, who was sitting silently in the truck, his arms folded as he stared across the barren fields, looking away from the cemetery.

  Their old man didn't deserve a visit, but, son of a bitch, Travis knew he couldn't keep living like this. Maybe Chase was right. Maybe it was time to do this. Swearing under his breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets and forced himself to walk across the dusty ground.

  He stopped next to his brothers, staring down at the plain headstone, marked only with their dad's name. Not even the date of his birth or death. Just a name. Travis felt cold, ice cold, almost numb as he stared at it. "Bastard," he said softly.

  Ryder snarled and spit on it.

  "A worse man never lived," Chase said.

  "No shit." Ryder turned his back on it and folded his arms over his chest. "Why are we here?"

  "Because it's time to let go of the grip he has on us."

  "He doesn't have anything on me," Ryder snapped. "I cut him out the moment I left home at eighteen."

  Travis couldn't take his eyes off the headstone. He could still hear his old man's voice in his head, that drunken rant filled with anger and disgust as he stumbled up the front steps to the shitbox they lived in. "I've heard his voice every time I've gone to bed. I don't sleep. I'm still afraid he's coming for me. He's been dead for almost a decade, and he still haunts me."